April 16, 33 AE

When Mack stopped at Base for his daily brief, he hadn't expected the buzz of chatter that hummed throughout the main building like a swarm of angry wasps. As curious as he was, he at least had the restraint to wait until after he notified the on-duty captain, an impassive guardian ironically named Joye, of his scheduled table-read before finding out what all the commotion was about.

"You didn't hear yet?" a second officer replied when Mack stopped him by the elevators. "Aren't you usually the first to know these things?"

"Bobo, really?" Mack grumbled, exaggerating a frown. "You make me sound like the office gossip monger. Now hurry up and tell me."

Bobo--Mack had no idea what the guy's real name was--grinned.

"To think I'd have the honor of spilling gossip to you," Bobo chuckled as Mack's frown deepened. "Fine, fine. It's about Wyatt."

Mack couldn't help how high his eyebrows raised with the news. "Camilla Wyatt?"

"The 'one and only'," Bobo replied with a hint of sarcasm. "Anyway, rumor has it that she'll be back later this week."

"So she's alright?" Mack asked. "She's okay?"

While word on Elsie's steady recovery was rampant, news on Camilla had been scarce ever since the attack. The lack of confirmation had resulted in a surplus of rumors, ranging from Camilla's untimely death (which was grimly mocked) to her going AWOL to frolic around Japan on a whim (which was expected).

Bobo sighed sympathetically. "Of course a guy like you would still be worried about an asshole like her. But this is Camilla Wyatt we're talking about. Remember? She'd be fine even if everyone around her was dead."

Mack instinctively grimaced at the reminder of the Academy attack, but he didn't let himself linger on it for long. Instead, he distracted himself by having a bit more small talk with Bobo before excusing himself for his mission of the day: Hollywood.

In all honesty, Mack loved his secondary job more than his primary. Sure, both were assigned to him, but at least he had a choice with acting; as in, it was Hollywood, or a hospital. And after just one week in the hospital and being surrounded by stifling pain and misery, Mack's choice was clear. So even if he did have to endure that anguish every once in a while, at least it wasn't a constant factor in his life, and he could live with that.

Besides, being an actor allowed him to talk to all sorts of people.

It was this perk of the job that made his journey from the parking lot of the studio's office building to the conference room for the table-read take three times longer than necessary. But he couldn't help it; he was nervous.

Mack hadn't seen or heard from Elsie since the Unity Games attack, aside from acknowledging each other's social media posts. So while he knew that Elsie was perfectly fine, he couldn't help his jittery anticipation as he awaited her arrival, resulting in him having a conversation with any person that dared to make eye contact with him. While most were eager to indulge his extroversion, such as the lobby receptionist, others were less sympathetic, such as the custodian in the bathroom.

So when Mack finally made it to the conference room, and Elsie arrived shortly after, Mack swore he heard the entire building sigh with collective relief.

"Els-bells!" Mack exclaimed as he nearly jogged up to her, unable and unwilling to hide his enthusiasm. A part of him was itching to wrap her in the tightest hug he could muster, but his common sense reminded him that she was probably still healing from multiple life-threatening injuries. "Good to see you alive and kicking! Would've been a real pain to recast you."

For a moment, Elsie's gaze drifted to the ceiling as if she was asking a higher power for patience, before bringing it back down to accompany her smirk.

"They'd probably be glad to finally get rid of me," Elsie retorted. "We all know it's you that they really want for this movie. You and your muscles."

As much as Mack wanted to contradict Elsie, he knew she had a point. Since she was a teenager, Hollywood hadn't treated Elsie kindly. And when she eventually fought back, she was the only one that suffered.

So instead, Mack opted for humor.

"Don't forget the cheekbones," he reminded her, not forgetting how the tabloids had a field day over her inebriated "love confession" to him many years ago.

"How could I forget?" Elsie agreed with exaggerated fondness. "Basically, we know I'm just the problem child to them."

"As much as I'd like to say I'd quit in solidarity if you got fired, I'm contractually obligated by both the studio and the federal government to see this project through," Mack admitted with a glum shrug.

He supposed he couldn't complain too much though. It was this or the hospital, after all. He should just be grateful that his diverse and attractive appearance, friendly personality, and semblance of talent allowed him this opportunity in the first place.

At the thought of his mandatory jobs, he glanced at the guardians that accompanied Elsie. He knew them both, of course; after all, he was the Los Angeles Base's resident social butterfly.

Amira had been an ambitious third-year during Mack's final year at the Academy, and she had successfully lobbied to participate in the upperclassmen's missions; it only took another five years or so before they were both officers, and Amira threatened to duel Mack for calling her "Mimi" when they reunited at the mess hall one day.

As for Quentin, while he was still relatively new, he was known around Base for his positive energy and unwavering curiosity. It was a common occurrence for him to chat up officers from various squads to hear about the "cool" and "awesome" missions they went on that day, and most were happy to indulge his naive optimism.

The awed expression on his face when he listened to their stories was almost indistinguishable from the look he was giving the other people attending the table-read.

Mack had to force himself to hold back an amused chuckle. "Q, you good?"

As expected, Quentin didn't answer until Amira elbowed him in the ribs.

"What?" he asked, dazed.

"Focus, Juneau," Amira scolded sternly. "We're working."

"But that's the guy from Space Race!" Quentin explained.

His face reminded Mack of a stray puppy he once encountered on the job, then subsequently snuck into his room at the Barracks. That same puppy earned him a couple demerits when his rebellion was inevitably discovered as a barking cupboard during a housing inspection.

But it was so worth it.

"I can get his autograph, if you want," Mack offered chipperly.

Immediately, Quentin's face lit up, and Mack couldn't help but grin as his chest filled with warmth.

"Really?!"

"No," Amira said firmly, directing her infamous glare at Quentin, then at Mack. "And Olomana, don't encourage him.

Immediately, the warmth in Mack was smothered, and he dampered his grin into a solemn frown. That's right; he was supposed to be a guardian.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, taking care to speak clearly to avoid another scolding for muttering. Still, he managed to shoot an apologetic glance at Quentin, who returned it with a small, helpless shrug.

As soon as the table-read started, it seemed to drag on, but that was possibly due to Mack's fractured spirits. He was over thirty, for crying out loud, but he still felt disheartened by Amira's admonishment.

Was it possibly because her reprimand was akin to how he felt stifled by the Org every single day?

Yeah, probably.

Regardless of the real reason, Mack was relieved by the time they finished reading through the final scene, and he rushed through his farewells with the cast and crew so he could accompany Elsie on her way out.

"You down for lunch before filming gets all crazy?" Mack suggested as they waited for the elevator. "Or maybe brunch? I hear it's what all the kids are doing these days."

Elsie let out a breath of laughter, and Mack could feel the warmth returning to his chest.

"Speak for yourself, grandpa," Elsie replied. "You're the only one here that's over thirty. I still know what the kids are into. But I doubt I can wake up in time for brunch. And I still have some PT left."

They dove into a conversation about Elsie's PT during the rest of their wait and the elevator ride down; that is, Elsie grumbled about the appointments while Mack offered his condolences at the appropriate moments. After the attack the previous month, Mack was simply glad that Elsie was safe.

Elsie sighed as the doors opened to the lobby. "Anyway, enough of that. What did we decide on? Lunch? Brunch?"

"I'm up for whatever," Mack said honestly, then grinned mischievously. "As long as it's cleared by your security."

Quentin made a point to roll his eyes exaggeratedly; in contrast, Amira nodded seriously.

"As long as we're notified at least twenty-four hours prior, it should be allowable," she said, her tone sounding much too formal given Mack and Elsie's preceding conversation. "However, Juneau and I are being rotated out next week, and your new detail may disagree. The final call will be up to them."

"What?" Elsie blurted out, her expression a combination of hurt and shock.

While Mack wasn't surprised, he knew why Elsie was. Elsie wasn't familiar with how the Org operated, and how they would shuffle guardians around like playing cards whenever it suited them.

"That was my reaction exactly!" Quentin exclaimed

"We just found out this morning," Amira explained simultaneously.

"I'm going to miss you guys," Elsie said with a sad smile. "Yes, Pala, even you and your angry face."

Amira sighed, but Mack was surprised to see a corner of her mouth curl slightly upwards. He supposed if anyone could coax that reaction out of Amira it would be Elsie.

"Who's taking over?" Mack asked, still mulling over what he just witnessed.

"We weren't told," Amira said as she gave him a pointed look. "You know how it is."

Of course he did, and Mack nodded as subtly as he could, ending the conversation there.

"Wait, what does that mean?" Elsie chimed in.

Mack froze. He hadn't expected her to ask, so he hadn't prepared an answer. And, judging by the hesitant glance Amira gave him, she hadn't either.

"Most of the time, we just do what we're told," Quentin stepped in. "And no one bothers to tell us about reasoning or the bigger picture or any of that."

"We just need to trust where our orders come from," Amira said roughly, as if she was doing her best to keep from gritting her teeth.

"But they don't trust us with that information?" Quentin said with a shake of his head, looking more frustrated than Mack had ever seen him before. "It's hypocritical."

Immediately, Mack tensed; he didn't like where this was going at all. Sure, he didn't appreciate the Org's forceful impact on his life, but he also didn't like conflict. And out of the two of those, there was only one he could have any effect on.

"I think it's more of a chain of command thing," Mack said as nonchalantly as he could. "The higher-ups want everything to pass through them so they know what's going on."

"They can still know what's going on," Quentin argued almost immediately, his voice rising ever so slightly. "They just need to give us more background information. Sometimes, we're walking into situations blind. All I'm saying is it would help to know what they know."

"Those things are need-to-know only," Amira snapped. "If too much information gets in the wrong hands, it could become a security issue."

"But the people giving the orders are never the ones out on the field with us," Quentin nearly snarled. "What if the situation changes? Are we supposed to wait around for them to give us new orders?"

Mack couldn't take this anymore. But as soon as he tried to step in, Amira's voice overpowered his own.

"That's what the squad captains are for," she replied firmly. "They're the ones who are trusted with the background information and to give the orders on the field."

Qunetin narrowed his eyes. "So, Captain Pala, are you telling me you always know what's going on then?"

The brief silence that followed was stifling, and Mack couldn't help but hold his breath.

"I know enough," Amira stiffly answered.

"You think you know enough, but how can you be sure?"

"Guys, enough," Mack finally managed to intervene, and it took almost everything in his power to keep his voice from wavering. "This probably isn't the best time or place to be discussing office politics, don't you think?"

His observation instilled some sense back into the two, and they both took a moment to scan the lobby and all of the civilians that had paused to witness their argument.

"Wait here," Amira ordered, her voice stifled by a forced calm. "I'll get the car."

Unfortunately, her departure merely left the rest of them to simmer in the tense lobby, and Mack's chest felt uncomfortably tight in the silent aftermath.

"You still want that autograph, Q?" Mack offered, forcing a warm smile for the young guardian.

As expected, Quentin's pinched expression relaxed a little, but it was still a far stretch from the eager kid Mack was accustomed to.

"Is... is that alright?" he asked tentatively, his eyes darting towards the lobby windows as if Amira would appear instantly with another lecture.

"Of course!" Mack insisted, giving him a well-meaning smack on one of his shoulders. "Hey, I could even show you around the set once we start filming!"

His second offer did the trick, and at the sight of Quentin's grin, Mack felt himself relax as well.

Another crisis averted.

---

NOTES

Anyone else wondering when a certain singer will be making his entrance? Well, stay tuned~